For A Thousand Years
by The Minsk
Summary: A/U. Love can be a powerful thing. If a love is strong enough, it can even transcend time.
1. The Ghost of Rachel's Past

**DISCLAIMER**: I neither own Glee nor the characters. They are the property of Ryan Murphy and FOX. This is purely for fun. Enjoy!

**A/N:** I have come out of fanfic retirement because Kelsey prompted me this idea and I just couldn't get it out of my head. I hope you all enjoy the return of my madness.

* * *

**For a Thousand Years**

**Chapter One: The Ghost of Rachel's Past**

* * *

"Bubbe, look at this!" A little girl with her hair pulled up in two perfect pigtails had her head buried in a musky old box in her grandmother's bedroom, siphoning through the contents like she had found her own personal treasure. "Bubbe, come quick!"

"Rachel, oy, I'm coming! My bones are too old for this," she half-joked while hobbling into the bedroom on achy joints. The older woman let out a tired sigh when she sat on the edge of the bed, but smiled earnestly at her little grand-daughter who bounced energetically before her. "What did you find?"

"The most amazing things, Bubbe!" The eight-year old said while she pulled out book after musty, ancient book, placing them on the floor. "Is this really my family history?"

"Absolutely, my little star. Come bring one to me and I'll show you everything you want to know." The child was bursting with excitement as she tried to pick up a book that was almost half her size. Her grandmother helped her, and together they lifted up the giant tome that comprised their family ancestry. Rachel wrinkled her nose at the damp, dusky smell of the paper as her grandmother turned the pages and landed on an elaborate family tree.

"Wow," Rachel breathed, in awe of the intricate details littering the pages. "The Berry family tree."

"That's right. This book goes back hundreds of years, ever since your ancestors came to the United States during the mid-1800's." Rachel looked at the names on the list and gasped at what she saw.

"Bubbe! There are so many Rachel's here!" She looked up at her grandmother with excitement in her gaze. "Was I named after them?"

The woman nodded. "Rachel is a precious family name. We try to skip a generation or two before it's used again, though. For example, look over here," her Bubbe pointed to a long branch that had very familiar names on it. "This is our line of the family. As you can see, my mother's name was Rachel too." The light of nostalgia entered her eyes as memories from long ago returned to her like footage from a movie reel. "You know, you look just like her when she was young."

"Really?" Rachel asked, her interest fully piqued. She would never know her great-grandmother, so she wanted to learn as much as she could about the woman she was named after.

"Yes," she replied, digging through the pictures. "Look at this one. She was a little older than you are when this picture was taken in 1912." Rachel took the picture from her grandmother and stared at the young girl smiling back at her. It was an ancient picture, its ends fraying while age spots discolored some of the background. But the girl in the picture was clear enough for Rachel to see, and as she looked into the eyes of the great-grandmother she would never meet, a strange chill shot down her spine and she could no longer look at it.

They really did look similar. Almost _too_ similar.

But Rachel was too young to understand why she could no longer look at the picture, and she slipped it back into the box with the other forgotten memories while her Bubbe continued to rifle through the photo albums. She shook away the disconcerting feeling she experienced, instead falling back into the past with her grandmother at her side. She reached into the box and Rachel pulled out another picture, a picture of great-grandma Rachel standing with a man. He was tall and lean, and stared down at great-grandma Rachel with nothing but the deepest affection in his eyes.

"Is this my great-grandfather?" She asked innocently, passing the picture over to her grandmother. The woman pushed her thick-spectacles up on her nose to better see the image in front of her. Her nose was wrinkled in concentration before she let out a laugh.

"Him? No, that's not my Papa," she said fondly, shaking her head. "That was my Mama's first love."

"Her first love?" Rachel asked, cocking her head in confusion.

"Yes, and she would have married him too," she trailed off, her voice growing ominous. "If he wasn't _a ghost."_

"A ghost?!" Little Rachel exclaimed, staring at the picture in front of her. The man didn't look like a ghost, and there was a picture of him in her hands, serving as proof that he was, in fact, a real person. So what did her grandmother mean? "That's impossible!"

"I know it is, but it's true," the grandmother hesitated, and broke off mid-sentence. "But your Daddy would kill me if he knew I told you this story. It's not one for little girls."

"Please, Bubbe, I have to know!" She looked down at the picture in her hands and Rachel needed to know more. The man, who towered over her ancestor with his immense height, absolutely captivated her with the look of pure adoration in his eyes, directed solely at the Rachel in the picture. His smile was warm and handsome; and he was dressed in a suit that reflected the fashion of the time. Rachel flipped the picture over and it said "FH & RB" on the back. According to the family tree, great-grandma Rachel's last name was Behr, but who was FH? And why did her Bubbe think he was a ghost?

"Alright, dear, but if you have bad dreams tonight, don't say I didn't warn you."

Rachel puffed out her chest with pride. "I'm a big girl, Bubbe; I think I can handle it."

"Okay, well, according to my mother, when she was 16 she fell head over heels in love with the man in that photograph. Word around town was that he absolutely adored her, fell in love with her at first sight, and gave her everything she'd ever wanted. All your great-grandmother _really_ wanted was for him to propose, and for them to share their lives with one another."

"What happened?" The little girl asked. "Did he die?"

"No," Bubbe said firmly with a shake of her head. "No, that wasn't the problem at all." For some reason, goosebumps erupted all over the little girl's arms as her grandmother continued the tale. "One day, they went for a walk, and my mother confessed her desires for them to live as husband and wife and grow old together. She thought he would propose to her then, and promise her his heart, but the exact opposite happened. He refused her, broke her heart, and told her that he could not provide her with the things she needed. My mother was crushed beyond words but she eventually moved on and married my father a few years later."

"But why? What happened?" Rachel was almost in tears, fighting against her confusion.

"I don't know, Rachel," she laughed. "I wasn't born yet."

"But it doesn't make any sense!" She cried. "They loved one another! Why would he leave her?"

"My mother always said that being with him felt more like a dream than actual reality," she said with heavy nostalgia.

"But you said he was a ghost!"

"Ah, that's where the spooky part comes in," her Bubbe said mischievously as her tone darkened. "When I was a little girl, about ten years old, I went to the nickelodeon with my brother and sister. Back then you could see whole movies for only a nickel, and we used to go every Saturday. But anyway, I got lost one day on the way home, after my brother started chasing my sister and her friends through the local park. I was terrified and alone, and I had no idea how to get back to our house from that part of town. All of a sudden, I look up, and there was a man in front of me. A kind, tall man with warm brown eyes and a smile that I immediately trusted, even though he was a stranger. He held out his hand for me to hold and he walked me all the way home, without even having to ask where I lived."

"But how did he know?"

"Ah, don't jump ahead my dear. When we walked down my block I could see my mother in the streets, knocking on people's doors and poking her head in the alleyways, looking for me. I pulled the man by his hand, dragging him toward my mother, but the man pulled his hand away from mine before we could reach her. I ran into my mother's arms, crying, and when she looked up to thank the man who found me, she turned as white as a ghost, took me inside without a word of thanks to the man, and immediately showed me this picture. I recognized the stranger instantly . . . because he didn't look a day older than the man you see here."

"Wait, what?" Rachel might have been eight, but she was extremely intelligent for her age and always knew when something was amiss.

"It was the same man, Rachel. The man who saved me was the man in the picture. And while my mother looked like a grown-up adult, he still looked like the strapping young man you see in your hands."

"But Bubbe, it could have just been a coincidence," the young girl said cleverly, doubting the truth behind her grandmother's story. "Maybe the man just looked similar to great-grandma Rachel's old boyfriend."

"Well, it could have been a coincidence," she shrugged. "But I remember the look in my mother's eyes when she saw that man. It was like she saw a ghost."

Rachel thought about her grandmother's story for a long moment, holding the picture in her hands and staring at it like it held all the answers to her questions. Was her grandmother right about the man in the picture? Was he really a ghost? Was her family being haunted by this person, this "FH?" Would he try to haunt her too?

She put the picture back in the box and closed the giant book on her Bubbe's lap, too scared to continue thinking about her weird family history.

Sometimes it's better if things stayed in the past where they belong.

* * *

**TEN YEARS LATER**

The bright afternoon sun hung high above her, shining through the cracks of the massive skyscrapers that towered over her and made her feel even smaller than she already was. Dozens of people poured out of the subway entrance as she tried to descend, pushing through the gaggle of New Yorkers that threatened to stampede her while she tried to keep her balance on the stairs.

Rachel Berry heaved a sigh of relief when she made it to the bottom in one piece, holding her ballet bag tightly against her before heading towards the train. She had been in New York for a whole semester, and she could never quite get used to how crowded everything was all the time. It was like another world compared to her little hometown of Lima, Ohio, and even though she was happy to follow her dreams of Broadway and stardom, she just wished she didn't feel like a little fish in a giant, massive pond.

She hummed to herself while she stood on the platform, listening to her iPod while waiting for the train uptown. There was a chill in the subway and she shivered, feeling goosebumps rise on her skin. Actually, on second thought, it wasn't the cold that was giving her goosebumps, but the sudden and acute sensation that she was being watched, something that had been happening to her ever since she moved to New York.

Feeling paranoid, especially since she was commuting alone, Rachel immediately peeked around her, trying to see if her instincts were correct. Even though the disconcerting sensation had been happening more and more frequently, she never found proof that someone was actually watching her. The platform was pretty full of people, but no one in the vicinity was looking in her direction. But something was telling her not to let her guard down, and she glanced across the platform towards the other side, where the commuters were waiting for trains to take them downtown, and it was then that she noticed the man for the first time.

He was staring at her; that was absolutely certain. The hairs on the back of her neck were standing on end when they made eye contact, and she froze as a chilling fear settled into her bones. He was standing right at the edge of the platform, directly in front of her, his hands stuffed inside of a simple black pea coat while the man seemed to appraise her from across the tracks. She was so stunned at the sheer audacity of the situation that she didn't even break eye contact, wanting to know every detail of his face so she could file a police report if need be. He was tall, and his face seemed familiar to her, like she had seen him once in a dream. His dark eyes stared right through her, with chiseled cheekbones pointed downwards in a frown, like she had offended him in some way. He was definitely handsome, with a lean but muscular physique and a strong jaw, but Rachel's heart pounded for different reasons; she felt threatened by the man and his blatant staring. Didn't he know how unbelievably rude he was being? And really creepy to boot!

But Rachel was not about to let some weird stranger rile her up and freak her out before a full day of classes, even if he was handsome and oddly familiar to her. She stared right back at him, feeling defiant despite the lingering fear prickling at her.

The spell was broken when her train pulled up at the station, blocking him from her view. She snapped out of the trance she felt, entering the train and sitting down at a window seat that faced the opposite platform. Rachel spotted the man immediately, still staring at her through the train window, his lips still curved downwards in a grimace. When the train started to pull away her eyes lingered on his frame as long as possible before entering the tunnels and the disconcerting feeling of being watched followed her around all afternoon.

One thing was definitely certain: living in New York was never dull.

* * *

The blood was pumping through his veins like a bullet of adrenaline shot through him, and his hands were shaking inside of the coat he wore to keep out the chill he couldn't feel. Lately he'd felt number than usual, keeping up with appearances so as to not draw attention to himself. People would get suspicious if he was standing around without a coat on in the middle of winter, and it was best if people didn't ask questions about him. He never knew how to answer them.

This is why he had to keep his distance from her from now on. Rachel Berry was here, she was safe, and that was all that mattered to him. He already felt foolish enough for exposing himself to her in so blatant a manner, but sometimes it took every ounce of strength he had just to stay away from her; to stop himself from approaching her and finding some way to introduce himself.

_It never works out the way you want it. You always end up alone. _

He shook away the voice in his head, his only companion throughout a long and weary life. The solitude was starting to get to him; the never-ending struggle against loneliness and the cloying pull of despair that he fought so desperately against. The only solace he had was that hope still lingered in his heart, a hope that had survived heartbreak after heartbreak, a hope that kept him going no matter what. He closed his eyes and he could almost hear her voice, calling out the promise she had made to him so long ago. A promise she'd been able to keep time and time again.

_"I will __**always**__ love you." _

He watched Rachel's train pull away and there was an emptiness inside of him that felt particularly hollow after that sudden first encounter. She probably thought he was some kind of freak; some creepy city dweller who did nothing but stare at strangers from across the subway platform.

When he was, in fact, a part of her destiny.

A sigh heaved from his lips as he headed out of the subway station, into the bright afternoon sun that he shielded his eyes against. The glare of the sunlight was strong, almost too strong as he walked into an intersection and heard the sudden, sharp horn of a taxicab. The speeding yellow vehicle plowed right into him, sending his body flying as the air rushed out of his lungs in a huge burst of air. When he hit the black Manhattan pavement like a rag-doll he knew he should have felt pain everywhere, but the sensation that coursed through him was the same tingling numbness that he always felt in the absence of pain. He took a deep lungful of air while a crowd of people surrounded him, and they all gasped when he lifted himself up off of the ground without any help a few moments later. He could only hope that the sound of his bones cracking back into place was muffled by their stunned cries of alarm.

"Son, don't you need any help?" An older man with a briefcase asked. "That taxi could have crushed you!"

"I'm fine," he said, brushing the dirt off of his coat and offering the man a smile. "Really, it didn't leave a scratch."

"It's a miracle," a young woman commented while he started to walk away from them. The crowd around him was pretty thin, and for that he was grateful. He didn't need anyone spreading rumors about a guy walking away from a car accident completely unscathed.

Besides, it didn't feel like a miracle.

To him, it felt more like a curse.

* * *

She was still sweating from her strenuous day of rehearsal when she left the NYADA campus later that night, forgoing her scarf and gloves and walking down the street with her coat open, despite the winter chill. It was a long trek back downtown towards her dorm building and Rachel already felt exhausted from her class load to even care about the risk of getting sick from being exposed in this weather. She was tired, she was sweaty, and she just wanted to take a shower and go to bed.

But first, she was hungry. She detoured from her route back to the subway and headed towards her favorite vegan deli, where she could get a nice hummus wrap on whole wheat. She was thinking more with her stomach than her head when she passed by a darkened alleyway, and didn't even notice the figure of a man reaching out of the abyss to grab her.

The movement was sudden and violent, completely disorientating her. First Rachel was on her way to her favorite deli and then she was being dragged into the alley with a strong hand covering her mouth, her screams being muffled by the man's meaty fingers. Whoever he was he smelled _foul,_ and his stagnant breath was hot against her cheek as he growled in her ear.

"Keep quiet bitch and don't fucking move," the sting of hot tears filled her eyes as a sense of hopelessness hollowed her out. He held up a pocketknife for her to see and the glow of the streetlamps reflected off the blade. Her eyes went wide with fear as a combination of terror and adrenaline pumped through her body. She could hear her heart hammering in her ears as the man pressed the blade into her side, and she could feel the sharp metal poking at her through the fabric of her coat. "Say a single word and I'll gut you right here." Fat tears slid down her cheeks as he reached into her open coat to touch her, and she closed her eyes against the despair she felt consuming her.

"Let go of her."

It was a low voice, calm and collected that called to her through the darkness. Her eyes shot open from shock and she tried to blink back her tears to see who her savior was. But the darkness was too deep, and all she could see was the outline of his silhouette. The man gripped her tighter and she let out a squeal of fear as the shadowed man took a single step closer.

"You keep moving and this bitch is dead, ya hear?" The man screamed, backing deeper into the alley as her would-be savior blocked the only exit.

"There's nowhere for you to go," for some reason, the man's voice seemed to break through the panic she felt, and she tried to regain control of her trembling limbs. It was a voice that almost seemed familiar to her, but she shook it away as an impossibility. She knew no one in New York besides her classmates at NYADA, and none of them seemed to care for her at all. "Why don't you just let her go and we can forget this ever happened."

"You don't know shit!" The man screamed, and Rachel could only hope that his screaming would alert someone to her plight. The man in front of her seemed unfazed and took another step closer, and Rachel summoned all of her strength and courage before biting down on the hand that was keeping her silent.

Her captor's bellow of pain echoed throughout the alleyway, and the man in the shadows reached forward and pulled her out of the way before tackling the man that grabbed her to the ground. She still couldn't see her savior's face, but she watched him fight the young Latino man that had grabbed her while they both wrestled with the knife. Rachel screamed when she saw the knife get plunged into her savior's side, and blood dripped freely from the wound while they continued to fight one another. More tears flowed freely down her face while she frantically called 911, and she heard a loud grunt as the criminal passed out on the ground, unconscious.

"Oh my god," Rachel cried hysterically as she hung up the phone, wiping away her tears that were freezing on her face in the cold night. The man who had saved her life lifted himself off the ground, but her eyes were fixed on the bloody wound in his side where the knife had stabbed him. She rushed towards him, filled with gratitude and running off of the adrenaline that still lingered in her bloodstream. "We have to get you to a hospital."

"No, it's alright," he spoke calmly, trying to wave off her concern. She shook her head and pushed his coat away, trying to find the wound.

"I need to stop the blood flow."

"It's already stopped."

She shook her head, "That's ridiculous. The police will be here in a minute and we'll get you to an. . . ." she looked up at the man who had saved her life and froze once more. " . . . Ambulance." Her mouth hung open in shock, trying to process what she was seeing. Maybe it was the stress of the moment, making her see things that weren't there, but Rachel was almost certain that the man, who had risked his own life to save hers, was the man from earlier that morning. The man who had been staring at her from across the train tracks.

And when she looked down at the wound on his side, it wasn't even there. Blood was marring his skin and his clothes but there wasn't even a scratch on him.

She took a step back, needing the space to breathe. Could it just be coincidence? Who was this man, and why was he sacrificing his own life to save hers? She saw him get stabbed, so why wasn't there a wound?

"You're," she breathed, as a certain panic entered his gaze. "Y-you're the man from this morning." He didn't deny it, but he didn't agree with her either. "You're not hurt."

"I'm glad you're safe," he said kindly, ignoring her statements and backing away from her, ready to leave. "Make sure the police escort you home when they get here."

"Wait," she called to him as he walked away, but she suddenly felt dizzy from the traumatizing events of that night. The man came back to her, placing his hands on her shoulders to steady her while he looked into her eyes. The warm, chestnut brown hue was welcoming and kind and she felt a connection blossom between them, unlike anything she had ever felt before. "Who are you?"

"Be safe, Rachel," he replied, completely avoiding her question. She wanted to know how he knew her name, but she had a feeling he wouldn't answer her even if she asked. He gave her a smile then, a smile that pulled up his right cheek and illuminated his face with youthful glee. It made her heart pound erratically, and she wanted so desperately to know who he was when he placed a chaste, yet intimate kiss on her forehead.

He walked away from her without a word, and she was powerless to stop him. Her legs felt weak, like her knees were made of jelly, and the sounds of police sirens filled the air as he walked out of the alleyway and disappeared.

But she was going to find that man again, she promised herself as the flashing lights came closer.

He had some _serious_ explaining to do.

* * *

Told you it was the return of The Minsk's Madness!

Until next time. . . don't stop reviewin'!


	2. Building A Mystery

DISCLAIMER: I neither own Glee nor the characters. They are the property of Ryan Murphy and FOX. This is purely for fun. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Two: Building A Mystery**

* * *

Rachel was shivering while she sat in the police station, giving her report on the attack that occurred in the alleyway and trying in vain to calm herself down. She wasn't sure if she was shivering because she was cold or because she was still traumatized from the events of that evening, but did it even matter? The police officers were all standing around her, looking at her like with various shades of disbelief as she told her tale.

"So you said there was a man who saved you from the attacker," one of the officer's said, reading her statement with severe doubt in his tone. "You saw the man get stabbed, but he just walked away without a scratch before we arrived at the scene."

"Yes," she said, knowing deep down that no one here would believe her. Rachel barely even believed it herself, but since she'd seen it with her own two eyes, she knew it to be the truth. "I know it sounds crazy, but I remember seeing the blood on his clothes."

"What did he look like? Have you ever seen him before?"

Rachel hesitated before answering, not knowing what to say to the officer. Should she give them all the details, so they could locate the stranger and commend him for his good deed? Or would they open a file on him and try to track him down as a criminal? For some reason, she felt oddly protective of the man, and a small, but selfish part of her wanted to keep him a secret. Her secret.

"It was really dark, so I can't be sure," she lied fluidly, letting her superior acting skills cover her mis-truths. The image of his handsome face would forever be burned into her brain, but the police didn't have to know that. Her savior had done nothing wrong.

Besides flipping her entire world upside down.

"He was tall," she continued, trying to supply them with only the most basic of information. "Definitely taller than six feet."

"What about his build? Any details about his face?"

"Um, he was thin, but kind of muscular. And, like I said, it was really dark so I couldn't see his face." There, that should placate them. The officers looked like they wanted to ask her more questions, but even if they did, she wasn't going to answer them. The man from the alleyway wasn't a suspect, he was a hero. If it weren't for him, well. . . She didn't even want to think about what could have happened to her.

"Well, we have your attacker under arrest and we'll be pressing charges against him. Thank you for your testimony and someone will see you home, Miss Berry."

"Thank you," she replied graciously, and allowed the policeman to walk her out to his car. She rode in the back, staying completely silent, replaying the events from that day over and over until she had dissected every single moment.

And yet nothing about the events of that evening made any sense to her.

She sighed, completely exhausted and stressed out while she entered her dorm building. Her roommate wasn't there and for that she was grateful; Rachel wanted nothing else but to be alone and have some time to clear her head before she got some sleep.

Unfortunately for her, the memories of that night assaulted her as soon as she closed her eyes. First she saw him at the subway platform, staring at her like she was the cause to all of his problems when she didn't even know who he was. Then she heard his voice calling her name; how he knew it she still didn't know, but she was determined to find out some kind of reasoning behind this sudden and strange presence in her life. It wasn't until she thought about his handsome face and the gentle kiss he'd placed on her forehead that she realized how fast her heart was pounding, trying to cancel out the loud alarm bells clanging in her head.

What was she even thinking? There was no way that she harbored feelings for the strange man who had seemingly popped out of the shadows and thrust himself into her life. Sure, he was attractive, probably the most handsome man she'd ever seen, but he was nothing more than a stranger to her, and for all she knew he could be the dangerous type of stranger. Rachel didn't even know his name, but she definitely knew he was carrying secrets.

Secrets he didn't want her to know about.

Rachel was restless throughout the night. Sleep did not come easily to her and she tossed and turned, struggling against the images that filled her head while she slept. When she did finally get some rest it was interrupted by nightmares, filled with shadows and questions she screamed into the dark.

The darkness didn't answer her.

But she refused to give up.

* * *

He burst into the small studio apartment he was renting with a heaving sigh, rubbing his hands over his face in misery while he sunk into the sofa that converted into his bed. Heart pounding, he rubbed his gritty eyes against the images that flashed before it, remembering the look of panic in the girl's eyes while she was held captive in that man's grip. It was enough to send his already spiking anxiety through the roof, and he stood up from the couch to head to the bathroom, where he retched into the open toilet bowl with a roiling stomach.

He rose a few minutes later, feeling tired and drained and somewhat sore in his right side. It wasn't exactly what he would call pain, but it was enough of a sensation to register that something had happened to him. He lifted up the hem of the shirt and saw the dried blood crusted on the surface of his skin, his flesh baby pink and numb to the touch. Looking up at his reflection in the mirror, he frowned at the shell of the man looking back at him. His eyes looked sunken and hollow, his frown pronounced and etched deeply into the contours of his face. Before tonight he couldn't even remember the last time he'd smiled. The last time he'd used his real name in conversation. Would he have the chance to use it with her? With Rachel?

His reflection stared back at him, ragged and run down, almost as if he'd forgotten what his name even was. He licked his lips, speaking to the mirror and forcing himself to remember that he was, in fact, human, no matter how abnormal he felt on a daily basis.

"Finn," he said slowly, tasting the familiarity of it. "My name is Finn."

God, when was the last time anyone had called him that? He'd had to move so often over the years that it was self-preservation to keep changing his name, his identity, so no one could catch up to him. Staying off the grid at all times was the only way to be safe when he didn't have a life to call his own.

"Well, Finn, you sure fucked it up this time," he said to his reflection angrily, filling up the silence of the apartment with his own self-loathing. "Now she'll never be able to trust you. First the questions will come, then the disbelief, and of course the fear. Then you'll be alone all over again with no one but yourself and your lack of restraint to blame."

_But I had to protect her,_ Finn told himself, closing his eyes and remembering the promise he'd made. _I kept my promise and did what was right. If I ruined this chance with her, then at least it would be worth it. _

Another sigh slipped past his lips as he returned to the living area and converted the sofa into a bed. Collapsing onto the mattress, he reached out and touched the empty side of his bed, remembering what it felt like to have her close to him. To feel her heart beating in tandem with his. To know their love was eternal.

"One day, Rachel," he whispered to the empty side of his bed. "One day we'll be together again," his throat got clogged with emotion before he shut off the lights and blinked against the tears welling in his eyes.

"But how much longer will I have to wait?"

* * *

Rachel woke up the next morning from her tumultuous sleep with the uneasy feeling that something was wrong. She couldn't tell what it was right away; it was a heavy feeling that sat upon her heart, almost like she had forgotten something important. Before she left for class that morning she checked her bag three times, making sure that everything was in its proper place. It seemed normal, but the second she exited her building the feeling became more and more pronounced until she was practically shaking with anxiety. What could she have forgotten? Did she have a test in Theatre History today? Was it her father's birthday or something?

Ugh, it was driving her crazy! What could it be?

Whatever it was, the nagging feeling of forgetfulness would not dissipate as she found herself on the same subway platform as the morning before. Suddenly alert, she scanned around her in a desperate search for the man from the night before. She wanted so badly to see him again, to ask him the questions that had plagued her since the moment she laid eyes on him.

But he was nowhere in sight. There wasn't a trace of him anywhere around her, and she didn't experience that disconcerting feeling of being watched-Only the annoying hum of forgetfulness that followed her all the way to school. The subways were crowded on a Wednesday morning, and she looked across the aisle of the car to see a young couple in the throes of love, cuddling next to one another as the train flew through each station. They were grinning at one another, with a brightness in their eyes that could not be denied, and Rachel felt the sudden sting of jealousy as she lamented her own dreadfully single life. If only she had someone who cherished her the way she dreamed of; to experience the kind of true love that only existed in fantasies.

All of a sudden, a certain kind of dizziness washed over her, leaving her feeling distracted and tired. Her vision went blurry for a moment and she blinked rapidly, hoping to return her eyesight to normal. When she opened her eyes once more she found herself floating in a dream, looking at something that couldn't possibly be real.

It was like looking through the lens of time, as if a history book came alive right in front of her eyes. The subway car that surrounded her became a street trolley, the advertisements morphing into pictures from the past as the outfits reflected an era long forgotten. The loving couple sitting across from her, the one that had inspired so much envy in her heart, shifted into something different, yet strangely familiar to Rachel as it hypnotized her into silence.

An eerie sense of déjà vu crept into her bones as the girl faced her once more, her features shifting into an identical copy of Rachel's own face as a giant cream-colored dress billowed around her tiny frame. The trolley car suddenly lurched and Rachel's copy stumbled into the tall, broad frame of a man. A man who held her steady and stared down at her with nothing but love and devotion in his eyes.

A man who looked more than a little familiar to her.

"Watch your step, my love," the man, _her savior_, said sweetly, his voice echoing in her memory as she stared at his defining features. This seemed like a dream to her, but the details were so real, so concrete. It felt more like a memory than a figment of her imagination as she absorbed every detail.

"I'm not worried," her clone said sweetly, leaning into his embrace. "I know you won't let me fall."

"Never," he promised, smiling in a way that made her heart leap with joy. As quick as it began, Rachel watched the scene in front of her dissolve back into the gritty gray reality that she was used to, and for a moment, she didn't want it to end. The image of the two lovers together were burned into Rachel's brain, the tenderness she'd witnessed seared right into her heart. Now more than ever, she felt like she was forgetting something important as the bright fluorescent lights of the train blinded her and snapped her back to the real world.

But what was happening to her? What was the meaning of that vision she'd just experienced on the train? Was it a dream or just her over-active imagination? Who were those people? And why did they look like archaic versions of herself and that man. . .

That man whose name still eluded her.

For a moment it was like she could taste his name on her tongue, hanging there and waiting to be spoken out loud. The mystery of it all was killing her, and as the train pulled into her station, she walked off the car and immediately stopped in her tracks, feeling like she'd just been slapped in the face as the other commuters pushed and maneuvered around her.

"Finn," she spoke the name out loud, feeling it crawl out of her memory like an ancient fact that had been long-buried there. A strange sensation flowed through her body like electricity, both shocking and re-energizing her in ways she'd never thought possible. Rachel had no idea where the name came from or why she'd said it, but even after she spoke it aloud, something inside of her was screaming for victory. Finally, the sense of forgetfulness was gone, only to be replaced with an overwhelming sense of confusion.

For how could she forget something that she'd never known in the first place?

* * *

Finn paced the streets surrounding NYADA, waiting for a glimpse of Rachel to ease his troubled mind as he kept both his distance _and_ his promise at the same time. Ever since the attack last night he'd been extra careful in his attempts to stay hidden from her. If he scared her off now then he would never get a chance to know her, and the thought of having to wait for another opportunity to be with her again filled him with the deepest kind of dread he knew.

He couldn't mess this up. Things between them needed to be natural. Smooth. If it got too complicated and she started asking questions then he would have to give up and resign himself to another lifetime of loneliness. He'd already waited long enough.

Like always, his heart sped up the second he saw her, watching the bright city lights reflect off of her creamy olive skin. She was glancing around her in a suspicious manner, hopefully taking more caution after her traumatic experience from the night before. Rachel entered the subway station and Finn followed a few moments later, hopping onto one of the back cars to avoid being seen. It was the same routine day after day; making sure that no harm followed her while he remained hidden from view, blending into the background like a shadow. It was a lonely way to live, but it was his fate, and he was more than used to it by now.

He was a good fifteen feet behind her when she made the wrong turn, heading towards the park instead of her apartment building. Frowning at her change in direction, he followed her, watching as she sat down on a park bench and held her bag in her arms, seemingly waiting for something. Her fingers tapped the bench nervously, her head swiveling in all directions, and he stood behind a nearby tree, waiting to see what would happen. What was she doing here? Was she waiting for someone?

Her behavior was odd, but he did his duty and stood in the cold February night, waiting to see what would happen. Before long her teeth started to chatter from the cold, and he could see her shivering from his hiding spot in the trees. After a half an hour of sitting outside staring at nothing, he finally realized what she was doing.

She was waiting for him.

The realization was like a punch in the gut, so swift and sudden it left him feeling breathless. This had never happened to him before; normally he was the one waiting around for the perfect moment to introduce himself to her, but now she was the one opening herself up to meet him.

He was so stunned he didn't know how to proceed. Should he just waltz up to her and try to strike up a conversation? Should he ignore her so she didn't get her hopes up? When a violent sneeze erupted from her petite frame his conscience went wild, and he knew he couldn't stand by while she sat outside and froze to death because of him.

Taking a deep breath, he walked out of his hiding spot and into the streetlights, illuminating the area in an eerie glow. He could tell the moment she spotted him, her face erupting in a grin so wide he couldn't help but smile himself. She'd always had that power over him; no matter how depressed and desolate he was she could change his entire attitude with a single look.

And right now that look was piercing right through him and drawing him towards her.

"You're here," she said, once he stepped up to the bench where she sat. He nodded once before she continued. "I didn't think you'd come."

"Were you planning on freezing to death out here?" He asked with an eyebrow raised.

She shook her head. "I had a feeling you wouldn't let that happen." She said it with such conviction it left him feeling floored. If only she knew how right she was. "And I was totally right."

Finn nodded, and for a moment it felt like time was standing still, the way he'd always wanted it to. She looked up at him like he was a mirage, ready to disappear at any moment, and he had to savor every second he had with her while he still could. He knew better than anyone how fleeting time could be, and it was never on his side.

"Have we met before?" She asked then, and despite the simplicity of the question he didn't quite know how to answer her. He couldn't tell her the truth, but lying to her just felt wrong.

"We met yesterday," he said simply.

"Then how come you knew my name yesterday?" Her counter-argument was swift and concise. "And why does it feel like I know you?"

_Because you __**do**__ know me,_ he said to himself. _And I know you. I know everything about you. If only you could just remember it all, but you never do. . . _

"I'm a friend of the family," he replied, hating himself for deceiving her.

"I don't believe you," she countered, and he admired how fiery she still was after so much time had passed. "But I don't think you're some creepy stalker either, so you better start explaining yourself, Finn!"

For a moment it felt like the earth had been rocked from it's center. Like all the air had been sucked out of the sky. Finn stared down at her, the girl who had kept him tethered to this life for so long he could no longer remember his age, and forced himself to inhale so he could have the breath to speak.

"What did you just call me?"

She looked sheepish before answering. "Well, I called you Finn. That _is_ your name, isn't it?"

"Well," he said, completely overwhelmed. This had never happened to him before and he wasn't used to being caught off-guard. "Yeah, it is, but how did _you_ know that?"

"Nuh-uh!," she shook her head with her arms crossed, denying him his answer. "Until you tell me how you knew my name yesterday I'm not sharing any information with you. It's already weird enough without all the secrets, and I think I've been pretty patient with you up to this point." She peeked up at him again, this time with hesitance in her gaze. "But it is Finn, right?"

"Yeah," he breathed, trying to get his heartbeat back to its normal pace. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd heard his name pass her lips. It was like hearing an angel call to him from heaven. "Don't you want to get inside?" He offered, noticing her shiver. He couldn't feel the cold but he could see his breath condense in the air. "It's really cold out."

"You don't seem to mind it," she noticed immediately, and he had to remind himself how smart and intuitive she was. He shrugged his coat off of his shoulders and held it out for her, forgoing all pretenses and living in the moment. Things were going more smoothly than he'd planned and she hadn't run off screaming yet, so he figured it was a good sign.

"I'm used to the cold," he lied once more, passing the coat over to her while she used it as extra warmth. It's not like he needed it anyway. "But you shouldn't risk getting sick."

"It's kind of worth it," she smiled, easing the tension from him and calming him considerably. "Sit down," she pat the seat next to him and he nodded, sitting next to her on the park bench. The night was dark around them, and normally he would have feared her safety in such an exposed space, but for a moment he let his guard down to relax and enjoy himself. The peace that settled into him was blissful and familiar as they enjoyed each other's company in silence.

"So you're not going to tell me anything I want to know, are you?" She asked, her voice filled with disappointment as it cut through the silence. He frowned deeply as he shook his head.

"Sorry. I can't."

"Are you stalking me or something?" She didn't sound scared, but curious.

"No. I'm not going to hurt you."

"Do you have some kind of grudge against me? Did I offend you somehow?"

"No," he laughed. As if she could ever offend him!

"Did my dads hire you to, like, look after me?"

"No." He wasn't some private detective/babysitter, he was part of her destiny, dammit!

"Are you going to tell me how you survived that stabbing from yesterday?"

"You wouldn't believe me, even if I tried."

She sighed, rubbing her temples with her fingertips and closing her eyes. "This is so weird. _Too_ weird." He let his eyes close in misery, instinctively knowing that he had messed things up beyond repair. Now she was never going to trust him, and all of his waiting and planning and preparing would be in vain.

"It doesn't have to be. I can leave you alone if you want. It will be like you never met me and I won't bother you anymore. We can forget this ever happened." His voice hitched a bit on the last word. As if he could _ever_ forget her. . .

"No!" She reacted suddenly, scaring him with her intensity. She placed a hand on his bare arm, exposed to the cold, and for the first time in eons he felt the tingle of warmth under her feather-light touch. "Please, I didn't mean that, I just meant. . ." she trailed off, and he noticed a single tear collect in the corner of her eye. "I don't understand what's going on, but I know you can answer my questions. Something is telling me to trust you, and I don't know how I know these things, but I do. I want to trust you, Finn." Her smile was warm and familiar, and it took every ounce of his power to restrain himself from kissing those petal-soft lips that he knew so well. "But in order for me to do that you need to be here. With me. And not hiding behind the bushes like a creeper."

A warm blush erupted on his face and he looked away from her, ducking his head in embarrassment. "I wasn't trying to be a creeper."

"Then you weren't doing a good job at it," she laughed easily. "Next time, you can come up to me and say hi. To be honest, the train can be a bit lonely, so don't be afraid to ride it with me. It's nice having a friend in the city, and you _did_ save my life. I kind of owe you."

He nodded his head, thrilled that she still wanted to be around him even though she had no idea who he was or what he wanted from her. But if she wanted to be his friend, then he would do that for her. It was the perfect way to become involved in her life.

"Let me walk you home," he said, lifting himself from the bench and reaching out a hand for her to take. When she slipped her dainty palm in his he could feel the warmth of her hands seeping into his skin, and the simple touch made him feel normal for the first time in a long time.

"Will I see you again?" She asked as they walked towards her dorm building. He squeezed her hand softly before letting go.

"Yeah, you will." Finn didn't have to know exactly when it would happen; fate always brought them together in one way or another. "Take care of yourself, Rachel."

"You too, Finn. It was nice to finally meet you." Her smile was small when she returned his jacket before entering the building, and Finn was glad that she'd turned away before she could see the deep grimace on his face. An ache settled into his chest instantly as he watched her walk away, making him feel like his heart had just been stomped on as her words echoed in his head.

_It was nice to finally meet you._ If only she could remember the _other times_ they had met over the years; it would make his life so much easier.

But she didn't remember, that was the problem. She _never_ remembered. And until she did, he was stuck like this.

_Forever._

And Finn knew better than anyone that forever lasted a very long time.

* * *

Have you figured it out yet? I had some guesses in the reviews that were right on the nose!

Until next time. . .Don't Stop Reviewin'!


	3. Memories and Feelings

DISCLAIMER: I neither own Glee nor the characters. They are the property of Ryan Murphy and FOX. This is purely for fun. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Three: Memories and Feelings**

* * *

The next morning, Rachel got ready for class in record time, practically tripping over herself in her haste to seize the day. She had a feeling, deep in her gut, that she was going to see Finn again, and the adrenaline pumping through her body was more efficient than a shot of caffeine as she headed towards the subway. It was a crisp, clear morning, and she relived every moment she had shared with Finn the night before as her destination came into view.

Part of her still couldn't believe that last night had actually happened. It had been a risk, waiting out in the cold for him until he showed up out of thin air. But part of her just _knew_ that he wouldn't let her freeze all night, and the fact that he'd proved her right made the entire scenario even more confusing to her. How was it that she knew these things about him? How did she know his name when they had never properly met before? And why was he so adamant in keeping secrets from her? What was he trying to hide?

Whatever he was hiding, Rachel was determined to figure out what it was, especially since it involved her in some weird way. She could still remember the odd hallucination from the day before, and how the people in her vision had looked identical to her and Finn. Was it nothing more than a simple daydream? What else could it have been?

She didn't have the opportunity to contemplate the subject further, because Finn was leaning against the building by her subway entrance, snapping her out of her reverie with the warm smile on his face. He was staring at her in a way that made her stomach flip over, and she stopped in front of him, wondering how to go ahead with their strange new friendship.

"Good morning," he said kindly, making her blush. "You're early today."

She shrugged her shoulders, trying to play it cool. "It's never too early to get started on your day." Deep down, she knew it was kind of weird that Finn knew her schedule so well, but she didn't seem to mind it all that much. In fact, it kind of warmed her heart that someone cared enough about her to notice. Her life had been lonely since she'd moved to New York and Rachel was happy to meet anyone that was willing to spend time with her.

Even if he was a bit on the elusive side.

"Come on, let's go," she said, nodding towards the subway entrance. They walked downstairs side-by-side as an amicable silence fell. The platform wasn't as crowded as she was used to, since it was still rather early, and Rachel liked the change of pace. She just wished her secretive companion would say something to her, _anything_ to quench her growing curiosity.

The train pulled up and Finn still hadn't said a word to her; he just stood by her side with a serene expression on his face. She looked up at him and noticed the various birthmarks dotting his complexion, her eyes trailing over his cheeks and jaw. When he looked down and caught her staring at him her face turned crimson, and she ducked her head away quickly as the silence between them became a bit stifling. When they walked onto the train he was still silent, but they were able to find seats next to each other as their commute began.

"So," she said, trying to force some conversation. "What do you do, Finn?"

He looked confused for a moment, like her simple question had caught him off-guard. "What do I _do?"_

"Yeah, as like, a profession. A job. Or are you still in school?"

"Um, no. I'm not in school," he rubbed the back of his neck and looked away from her. "But I don't work either."

Her nose crinkled in disbelief. "What do you mean?"

"I have money, I've been saving it up for a long time," he shrugged. "So I don't have to work." He didn't elaborate further but the curiosity was starting to get the best of her, and she couldn't hold back the tide of questions that flooded her mind.

"So what do you do all day?" She asked incredulously. Sometimes it felt like her entire life revolved around school and her future career; she couldn't even imagine life without her personal goals and wondered what he did to pass the time.

His answer was a simple shrug. "Whatever I feel like. I travel a lot. I don't like staying in one place for too long." Well, at least traveling was a hobby, and an interesting one at that.

"Where have you been? Anywhere fun?" An actual smile pulled up Finn's lips before he answered her.

"Oh, I've been all over the place," he said fondly. "Europe is great, so is Africa. Lots of animals and wildlife."

"What's the best place you've ever been to?" She asked, happy to have something to talk about. "Your favorite place to travel in the whole wide world?"

He seemed to think about it for a while, his face pinched while he was deep in thought. After a few moments he nodded and seemed to make up his mind. "Ireland."

"Ooh! Ireland! How exciting!" She said with enthusiasm. "Why do you like it so much?"

"It was my home," he said simply, his eyes clouded over with nostalgia. "I was born there."

"Really? But you don't have an accent," she noted as he shook his head.

"I lost my accent a long time ago." She frowned at his withering tone and wanted to make him smile again.

"Well, what makes it so great? Tell me about it. I've never been there before." He stared at her with an unfathomable expression that she could not decipher, but answered her question as politely as possible.

"Everything there has a history. You can feel it in the wind, and the rocks, and the green rolling hills. A powerful history that spans generations and beliefs, with a language and culture unlike anything else I've ever experienced." He shook his head, lost in the memories. "I haven't been home in a long time, but I remember the feel of the grass under my feet and the taste of fresh beer in the summer. I remember the smiles of the children in the town square, and the Priests who greeted the congregation every Sunday on the way to church." He trailed off, his voice holding a lilt of melancholy that Rachel did not understand.

"It sounds like you miss it," she noted quietly. "How old were you when you left?"

"I can't remember."

"What do you mean?" She asked, her eyes trailing over his frame again. "You don't look a day over 20. How can you not remember? Were you very young?"

"No. I was probably about 16 or 17. But I can't be sure anymore." She shook her head, his words too cryptic for her to follow.

"Well, Ireland sounds marvelous," she said, changing the subject. "I wish I had the money to travel the world like you do. Was your dad rich or something?"

"My dad?" He repeated, his voice becoming even more desolate. "Well, I guess, I mean. . .," he trailed off, his tone weakening. "I don't remember."

"What do you mean?" She asked, shaking her head. "What about your mom? Your family?"

"It doesn't matter, Rachel. They've been gone a long time," he said, getting up from the seat and startling her with his abrupt movements. "Come on, we're at your stop." She looked around, feeling foolish when she realized that they had, in fact, arrived at her destination. She quickly gathered her things and exited the train before the doors closed on her, but Finn was completely shut off from her while they walked the short distance towards her school.

If only she knew more about him, but with every bit of information she was able to glean from him, the more confused she became. How could he not remember key aspects of his life? His childhood? His own family? He said he left Ireland in his teens, which couldn't have been more than a few years ago, but accents took decades to develop and diminish and he spoke with a neutral tone like everyone else. And the way he looked at her; like he was expecting her to know these things but was disappointed when she didn't. If only he would open up to her a bit more and stop being so secretive.

Her thoughts were focused solely on him when she suddenly stumbled on the sidewalk, tripping over herself and slamming her knee into the concrete. A cry of pain escaped her as pain reverberated in her leg, and Finn was immediately at her side trying to help her off of the ground. When she looked up to thank him, however, the scenery around them had changed into what she could only describe as another hallucination.

But this time she was a part of the fantasy, not just an observer. She looked up and saw Finn's smiling face before he pulled her up from the cobblestone path as horse-drawn carriages drove around them. The busy streets of New York had shifted into the roads of a quaint Irish town, and a heavily-accented Finn scolded her lightly as she lifted up her petticoats to walk easier.

_"Watch your step, lass," he said warmly. "I might not be there to help you up next time."_

_She scoffed, smiling brightly as she took his hand. "Like a Hudson would ever ignore woman in need. Your Pa would sic dogs on you!" __ Well, whatever accent she spoke with was pretty thick. It sounded like it had roots in eastern Europe but her English was near perfect. _  


_"And Ma would beat me on the head with her skillet when Pa was done with me." He squeezed the hand she was holding. "You know me too well."_

_"But everyone knows Finn, eldest son of Hudson clan. The most eligible man in all county Cork." He rolled his eyes liberally as their hands stayed entwined._

_"You know I don't care about that shite," he cursed liberally while she clucked her tongue in disapproval. "I got the only girl I want right here."_

_"Well, I'm only here for another fortnight, Finn. You know family and I leave for the Americas soon."  
_

_"Yeah, I do," he said, stopping in his tracks and tugging on a silver chain he wore around his neck. Instead of a pendant, there was a Claddagh ring dangling from the end, and he undid the clasp and slid the ring off into his palm. "And I'm going to be there with ya, Rachel." He held her hand and slipped the ring onto her finger. "Nothing on God's green earth is going to keep us apart."_

* * *

Finn was standing on the sidewalk looking worried as Rachel sat unmoving on the pavement, drawing attention to the fact that she wasn't making any effort to pick herself off of the ground. What was wrong with her? Was she very hurt? She wasn't answering him so he couldn't be sure if she was okay, and people were starting to bump into them in their haste to get to their destinations.

"Rachel," he urged, tugging her by her elbow. "We need to get off of the ground now." She still wasn't answering him, and her lack of eye contact was beginning to worry him. He knew he was crossing a delicate boundary, but he wrapped his arms around her and physically lifted her off of the ground and into the enclave of a nearby building. She was steady on her feet but when he looked at her face, her eyes were glazed over, as if she wasn't even there.

"Rachel," he called to her, not knowing what to do. This had never happened in all the years he'd known her. "Rachel, snap out of it!" He started to shake her lightly, and with a jolt her eyes went back into focus as she blinked rapidly and looked around her. When her eyes landed on him they went wide, and she looked more than a little frightened as her voice began to shake.

"It happened again," she said, and he could see tremors echo through her body.

"What happened, Rachel? What's going on?"

"I don't know," she said, holding onto him so tightly he was glad he couldn't feel pain. "I keep having these visions. I'm seeing things." Their eyes met and he could see the panic swirling in her gaze. "I'm seeing you, Finn. With me. But I can't tell if it's a dream or not. . ." She shook her head, her face pinched in confusion.

"What do you mean?" None of this was making sense to Finn as he watched her struggle with her own thoughts. In all the years he'd known her, this had never happened before.

"We were walking down a road, and I fell. You helped me up off the ground and we were talking. We both had accents and I was wearing a ridiculous dress. . ." She looked up in his eyes and it felt like his heart was in his throat. "You gave me a ring. An Irish ring."

He took a step back from her, too stunned to keep his features in check as his stomach rolled in tense circles. He could hear his heartbeat hammer in his ears as she looked to him for some kind of consolation, but for the first time he didn't know what to say to her.

"Finn?" Her voice was filled with confusion and a hint of panic. "What's happening to me?" The pain in her voice wounded him, and he wanted nothing more than to chase the fear away, but he didn't know how. The urge to comfort her was too strong to ignore as he reached for her hand once more.

"I don't know, Rachel, but everything is going to be okay, I promise."

"How can you promise that? How do I know these things?" Like he did the day he saved her from her attacker in the alleyway, he placed a soft kiss on her forehead, hoping that it had the power to ease her troubled mind.

"Whatever is happening, Rachel, you can't be afraid of it. It's happening for a reason." She nodded her head miserably before looking away from him. "Just, try and focus on school and we can talk more later."

"You'll be here? After class?" She sniffled, her voice still filled with doubt.

"Of course, Rachel. I'll be here tonight to take you home." He smiled for her benefit, even though he was just as confused as she was. "And we can talk more about what you saw."

"Okay," she said, holding her bag firmly and wiping the moisture from her eyes. "I have to get going."

"I'll see you later, Rachel." He said, not wanting to let her out of his sight for a second. His heart was still thundering in his ears and he wanted to know more about the visions she was experiencing, but he couldn't interfere with her schooling, which he knew was very important to her.

"Bye, Finn," he waited until she was out of sight before heading back onto the subway, taking the train towards his apartment with a single goal in mind. He took the stairs two-at-a-time before he reached his studio, and when he burst in through the door he immediately headed to his nightstand, where he dug around for the soft velvet box that had been in his possession for longer than he could even remember.

When he opened it up and stared at the intricate silver pattern his eyes immediately teared as memory after memory assaulted him without mercy. He could remember the first time he gave her the ring on that bright, sunny spring morning so long ago. Back when he'd been nothing more than a simple man with simple dreams.

But how could Rachel know about that moment as well? She never remembered _anything_ about the past, and for the first time in his long and lonely life, a beacon of hope began to brighten inside of him.

She was remembering. She was _actually_ starting to remember the time they spent together, so long ago.

Before his entire world fell apart.

He held the velvet box in his hands, staring down at the Irish symbol of love and devotion that he'd been keeping safe for years and years. Rachel had worn this ring every day, cherishing it above all the many possessions that her parents had showered her with. What would happen if he tried to give it to her again? Should he risk it? Would it help him in his task or harm their relationship in the long run? He couldn't be sure, but the simple fact that she'd remembered _something_ gave him hope. Especially since she'd never remembered anything before now.

Finn was filled with so many unanswered questions it was starting to unnerve him. He held the velvet box in his left hand, and used the other one to land a hard punch into the wall closest to him, venting out his frustration and anger. Normally this action wouldn't have even registered to him, and he was expecting to feel the same kind of tingling numbness that he always experienced instead of pain. However, when the white-hot sensation of pure agony shot up his arm and centered on his knuckles and fingers, he almost dropped the velvet box out of his hand as he let out an anguished shout, cradling the injured hand softly.

"What the fuck was _that?!"_ He roared to himself in the apartment as his nerves screamed in protest. God, he hadn't felt a searing pain like that in _years,_ and it left him feeling breathless as he fell to his knees and rubbed the pain out of his arm. He moved the wrist around, flexing the wounded fingers, and he could actually see the tell-tale signs of swelling in his digits.

For Finn, pain had never felt so good.

"It hurts," he whispered to himself while the skin started to bruise. "It actually hurts. I can feel pain." He winced when he flexed a sore part of his hand. "Wow, that actually hurts_ a lot._" He couldn't believe it, but pain was actually registering in his body, and for the first time in his very long life, he felt somewhat human again.

It had to be because of Rachel. This Rachel. Something was changing, something important, and he knew she was the cause of it. His entire life had been one endless limbo, simply existing until their paths crossed at certain points in time and he could be with her. Fate was a fickle friend of his, and while it always brought them together, it eventually ripped them apart again until the cycle could restart. However, he knew that the cycle was meant to be broken, and Finn had a gut instinct that this Rachel was going to be the one to end it and set him free from his eternal prison.

But he couldn't be sure. Finn was nothing more than a mere human, and the powers that had doomed him to this existence were more powerful than anything he had witnessed in his long, lonely life. In fact, he'd scoured the planet many times, trying to find the one person who could undo whatever had cursed him to this never-ending purgatory, only to come up disappointed at every turn. There was only one thing that could save him,_ Rachel,_ but not even he knew how it would happen.

If it ever did.

The pain in his hand was fading, only to be replaced with the same numbness that he was used to feeling as he shook the limb out and watched the swelling go down. The flash of pain he'd felt had been momentary, but it was enough to remind him how hollow he'd become over the years. The longer he lived, the less he was able to feel, and it wasn't just pain that he was becoming numb to. His emotions were starting to dissipate, even the precious ones like humor and happiness. Even if Rachel did want to be with him, he was afraid that he'd have nothing left to give to her on an emotional level. That he would become an empty shell of a man who could no longer feel the love they had once shared. It was a thought that kept him up at night, and the worst fate he could ever imagine for himself.

But as the years passed him by, it was slowly becoming a reality.

And he didn't know how to stop it.

He closed the lid on the velvet box holding the ring, knowing that it was too soon to show it to her. Right now his only priority was trying to figure out if she was, in fact, remembering the times they had spent together in the past and what it could mean for them. The entirety of his day was spent contemplating this topic, and in the late afternoon he dutifully left his apartment with ample time to spare before meeting Rachel by her school.

She was already by the gates when he approached, and her face lit up instantly once she spotted her. The worry and anxiety that had been etched onto her face that morning was now gone, replaced by a certain serenity that warmed his heart. Even with all the strange occurrences happening around her, she was still able to flash him a stunning smile, which put his frayed nerves at ease.

"Hey," she said sweetly, and her cheeks were rosy red from the cold he couldn't feel.

"Hey," he replied. "How was your day?"

"Good, good," she nodded. "And yours?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Fine. Same as any other. Didn't really do much."

Rachel's eyebrow raised in disbelief. "You need to find yourself a hobby or something, Finn. It's not healthy to just sit around all day and do nothing. It's very important to keep your senses stimulated and your body active."

Finn brushed off her concern. "I'll keep that in mind."

"So," she was rubbing her hands together for warmth as her breath fogged in the air. "I'm kind of hungry. Can we go get something to eat?"

"Sure," he said, caught off guard a bit. Would this be considered a date? His old-fashioned manners were protesting the fact that she had asked him out first, but he had to remember how different customs were these days and just go with it. He wasn't about to let an opportunity to spend time with Rachel pass him by because his beliefs were still so archaic.

"We can talk about what happened this morning. I've been thinking about it a lot today." They started walking towards the local deli side-by-side, and Finn was elated just to spend some quality time with her again. It was amazing how much he'd missed her companionship.

"Really?"

"Yeah, but It's still so confusing," she looked up at him with doubt in her eyes. "And I also think it's kind of your fault."

_"What?" _He asked, completely stunned. _If only she knew. . ._

"Well, none of this started happening to me until we met the other night. Ever since then I just can't shake off the feeling that I'm forgetting something. _Someone."_ They arrived at the deli, but she paused before stepping inside, placing a hand on his arm to stop him from entering. Her eyes were swimming with confusion as they met his once more. "And I can't help but think that someone is _you."_

His mouth suddenly went dry as he tried to swallow the lump of emotion in his throat. "Why do you say that?"

"Because there are things about you that I know. Things I shouldn't, like your name." She grinned as she recalled it from her memory. "Finn Hudson."

Well, that bit of information was like a punch to the gut. He'd never given _anyone_ his real name before, using anonymity as a self-preservation tactic. Finn was as still as a statue while Rachel kindled the last bits of hope that lingered in his heart. She really _was_ starting to remember the past, and for the first time in his long, exhausting life, he was beginning to believe that his nightmare would soon be over.

"What else do you know?" A bright blush erupted on her cheeks as she looked away from him.

"That you care about me," she admitted softly and he had to bite back a scoff at the massive understatement. "I mean, if you didn't then you wouldn't have saved me from that attacker the other day. And the way you look at me sometimes. . ." she trailed off before making eye contact with him again. "It's so _intense._ It's like you know me already, even though we just met."

"Well, what if I told you we _had_ met before?" he asked, surprised at his own boldness as he broached the subject. "But you just can't remember it."

She frowned deeply. "I don't know how that's possible, but I would want to remember." She reached out for his hand and he rejoiced when skin touched skin. "Something is telling me that you know the truth, Finn. I want to trust you, I feel like I can trust you, but not if you're hiding things from me."

"Even if it scares you away?"

"It's better than spending the rest of my life not knowing why I feel this way. Why I feel so connected to you." She squeezed the hand he was holding, and all of a sudden he felt the sudden sensation of icy cold air prickling his skin and making goosebumps erupt on his flesh. He gasped aloud when the chilly temperature registered to him for the first time in ages, and took a deep breath of the fresh, cold air, allowing it to fill his lungs.

First he experienced pain, now he felt the cold; Finn was actually starting to feel somewhat normal now, and he owed it all to Rachel's influence.

"Finn?" She asked a few moments later, snapping him out of his reverie. The hope that blossomed in his heart made him feel confident and bold, and excitement bubbled inside of him as an actual smile pulled up his cheeks.

"Come on, let's get inside," he said, energized in a way that was somewhat foreign to him. He wasn't used to being so lighthearted, but he couldn't help feeling so carefree when the odds seemed to be somewhat in his favor. "It's cold out here, and we have a lot to talk about."

"Yeah, we do," she smiled brightly, and as he followed her into the deli, he could only hope that the truth didn't scare her away.

Living through it once was scary enough.

* * *

The puzzle pieces are about to come together! Can Rachel handle the truth about her past?

Until next time. . . Don't stop reviewin'!


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